


Cold Brew

by pvnicing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Steve Rogers, Clintasha - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Insomnia, M/M, Shrunkyclunks, Starbucks, Stucky - Freeform, Writer Bucky Barnes, implied ironstrange flirts, there's a lot of coffee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvnicing/pseuds/pvnicing
Summary: He always thought that the one thing that will always help an artist through a tough phase is art. But maybe he was wrong.College has never been very hard for Steve. That is until his mind starts to keep him up at night, pinning him to his sketchbook. There seems to be no one he can talk to - not even the people he cares about more than anything.It's only when someone from years ago comes back into his life that it start getting better.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve entered the building, running up the stairs as fast as he could, taking two at a time. His sketchbook was clutched tightly under his arm, he was careful not to drop any of his drawings. Once again he had lost track of time, drawing all night, deep in thought for hours and then not thinking of anything at all. It was like meditation for him. He could not even remember what it was he had been drawing. He had been working on his art until he could hear the birds chirping and see the sun rising. There were still charcoal smudges on his cheek, but he had been in too much of a hurry this morning to notice.  
Steve reached the classroom panting heavily. He had to take a few seconds to catch his breath before quietly slipping into the room, trying hard not to catch the professor's attention. He plopped down on the chair next to the red-headed girl who quickly cracked him a knowing smile. Steve winked at her before getting out his books and focusing on the lecture.

 

“Rogers!”

Steve turned around slowly. His attempt to rush out of the room with everyone else and hide in the crowd had clearly failed. He put on a fake smile and jogged to the front of the classroom. He liked his professor, he really did, but he knew he had fucked up his chance of getting a solid grade from him this time.

“You know what this is about?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry again. I’m really not doing this on purpose,” Steve muttered.

“I know that. But Rogers, I’ve warned you before and this is the third time you’ve been late this week.”

Steve scratched the back of his head. He didn’t know how to talk himself out of this one. “I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re a good student, Rogers. And I don’t want you to lose your scholarship. I’m certainly not going to fail you over this but it’s not going to look good on your report card.”

Steve nodded. He’d hear this before.

“Well then,” His professor didn’t seem to know what else to say. “I’ll see you next week.”

“On time,” Steve added with a charming smile. “Promise.” He turned to leave.

“Get an alarm clock, Rogers!” he heard the man call before he reached the hallway.

 

“My next project is going to have to blow him away,” Steve said as he wiped down the coffee-mugs.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re focusing on school way too much these days. When was the last time you actually did something fun?”

“Last night,” Steve answered truthfully.

“You were drawing last night, Steve. You can’t lie to me.”

“Drawing is fun.”

Natasha entered from the kitchen. She had a towel thrown over her shoulder and she was furiously writing down something onto a notepad. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

His friend looked at him for a while before nodding towards the café-counter. “Customer.”

Steve turned around with his best barista smile to take the order. The red-headed girl was standing in front of him, arms crossed over the counter.

“Wanda!” Steve said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Just grabbing a coffee to go. I’m going to the park to sketch for a bit. I was planning on texting you and ask if you want to come along but you seem to be busy.” She looked down on his apron. “Since when have you been working here?”

“A few months now. Gotta pay rent somehow, right?”

His friend nodded knowingly. “Suits you.”

Steve took her order, fixed the drink and got back to cleaning the dishes.  
He didn’t mind his job. He had a few friends that have worked in cafés, none of them overly happy with their decisions in the long run. But Steve enjoyed the atmosphere inside the small café. The smell of coffee that greeted him every day when he came to work. He enjoyed watching other students that were coming in to work quietly for a few hours, ordering as many coffees as their limited budget allowed them. Couples often came in on dates, some of them already deeply in love, some just falling in love.  
But most of all he enjoyed his company at the café. He had met Natasha on his first day and he had known from the moment he first saw her that they would get along. She had been acting a bit cold towards him the first few days. She told him later that it had taken her a while to make up her mind about him. After the first month however they had already grown close. Steve felt like he could tell her everything and Natasha felt like she could trust him. She had moved in with him only two weeks later.

 

“Who is this?” the man on the couch had asked as they entered the apartment. He was wearing sweatpants and his left arm was hidden inside a bag of chips.

“This is Natasha.”

“And what is Natasha doing here?”

“She’s moving in.”

Sam looked at him for a moment, brows furrowed, before shrugging his shoulders and throwing a chip into the air and catching it with his mouth. “Whatever.”

Steve had even helped her carry her boxes from her old apartment to the new one. She didn’t want him to at first, but he wasn’t going to let her go alone.

Bruce let them in with a quick greeting, almost too quiet for Steve to hear. He watched them pack Natasha’s suitcases and boxes, clearly thinking about helping them but then deciding against it. Instead he poured them two glasses of water which stood on the coffee table untouched until they left.  
Nat didn’t have a lot of stuff. She only emptied her half of the closet, grabbed a few bottles from the bathroom and lastly heaved a sound system off of its shelf after some consideration. Bruce just watched her and let her take it without saying a word.  
Steve expected them to leave without Nat saying a single word to her ex but when she stood in the doorframe she stopped. “I’m sorry about this.” She slowly turned around and for a second Steve thought he could see her a tear in her eyes.

“I know.”

“It’s just not working out.”

“I know.” He gave her a sad smile which she returned.

They carried her boxes down the stairs and towards her car. Before getting in, Nat stood in front of the building for a minute, just looking at it. Steve knew that it was best not to say anything. They drove back to their apartment without exchanging a word.

He never asked her why Bruce and her had broken up. He knew her well enough to know that she would tell him once she was ready to talk about it.

 

“He had proposed the night before,” Natasha started one night when they were hanging out in the living room.

Steve put down his book and faced her.

She wasn’t looking at him. “He had proposed because he wanted to start a family with me one day. We had been together for four years.” She was fiddling with the remote. Steve could hear in her voice how uncomfortable she felt talking about this. “I knew he wanted to have kids all along and I never told him. I never told him because I was being selfish. It was so good with him. He was just so good, Steve.” She faced him now with eyes that were dry but filled with sadness. She took a deep breath. “But I can’t have kids, Steve. I can’t have any and I don’t want any either. I knew that, and I never told him. We would take a walk and there would be parents playing with their kids and he would look at me and smile. And I would smile back. He looked so happy when he kneeled down that night. He was thinking of what we would be. He thought I would say yes, and we would be exactly like those parents with their kids. But I didn’t. I shouldn’t have let it come this far. I should’ve just let him have all this time to find someone that actually wants what he wants. But I was a coward, Steve. A fucking coward.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a while, then he moved closer, pulling her into a tight hug. They stayed like this for a while. Natasha rested her head on his shoulder and they put on a movie to watch in silence.

They didn’t often have serious talks like this. Life was mostly fun and light-hearted in the apartment - especially with Sam around. He and Nat got along instantly which confused Steve a little bit since it took him a while to get close to her, but he figured she was giving Sam a chance because he let her move in without any further question.

 

“You look tired,” Natasha said while leaning against the counter.

“I am tired.”

She pulled the towel from her shoulder and helped him dry off the coffee mugs. “You should sleep then instead of pulling all-nighters.”

“That’s some good advice, Nat. I hadn’t thought of that.”

She furrowed her brows. “And what is that on your face?” She roughly rubbed over his face which made Steve feel like a little boy. “No wonder you’re getting tipped like crazy today. The customers think you live on the street.”

“And I thought I was getting tipped so much because they like my handsome face.”

“You’re probably right. You do look very handsome today.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Nat playfully slapped him with her towel before shoving him back towards the counter.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Steve recognized the guy that was standing in front of him. He had seen him around at college often enough.

“Uh, can I get a black coffee?” He looked tired. Even more so than Steve. His hair was hidden inside a beanie, dark circles were framing his eyes.

“Tough day?” Steve asked as he brewed the coffee.

“You have no idea.” The guy gave him a weak smile. “College will be the end of me.”

“I know that feeling.” Steve poured the coffee into a paper cup and punched the order into the old cash-register. “That’ll be 2$.”

“You not gonna ask me for my name?” the guy asked surprised.

“Oh, well, I know your name.” He handed him the paper cup so that he could see the writing on the side.

“Huh. Didn’t think you’d remember,” Bucky said surprised. “It was like, what, three years ago?”

Steve nodded. “Must’ve been.”

“Well,” Bucky handed him the money and gave him a big smile. “I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely!” Steve watched Bucky as he left the café until he was out of eyesight. He felt a bit confused. Then he looked at Natasha.

“You two know each other?” she asked interested.

“Not really, no.” Steve leaned back against the wall and started untying his apron. It was almost time to close the café for the day. “We met on the first day of college. Haven’t really talked since.”

 

Steve’s first thought as he had been standing in front of the college building for the first time had been that it was way bigger than it had looked online. It was an old building with red bricks that had been renovated sometime in the last decade. They had painted the outside, torn down some walls and done various changes while still making sure to keep the vintage charm. The big windows were still the same they were 150 years ago.

A big metal sign was hanging above the entrance, welcoming him. He walked in through the revolving door. The entrance hall was packed with hundreds of people around Steve’s age. He made his way further into the hall and then stood there awkwardly, waiting for the event to officially start.

He passed the time by watching the other students. He noticed a group of people that were clearly already getting along. A tall, blonde guy playfully shoved a girl with dark, braided hair. They both looked equally stunning. He wondered what they might be majoring in. Sports maybe - they both seemed pretty fit. The guy that was standing next to them seemed a bit off to Steve. His long, black hair was sleeked back, and he looked around the room almost suspiciously. His arms were crossed over his lean body. He didn’t carry a backpack with him.

Across the room Steve saw a guy calmly leaning against the wall. He was typing on his phone. Steve couldn’t recognize the brand. The guy must’ve felt Steve watching him because he lifted his head and looked over to him. A smirk spread across his lips. Steve looked away, embarrassed.

Then he saw him. He was standing around as awkwardly as Steve, looking around the room uneasily. His left hand was pushing his brown hair behind his ear. The other one was hidden deep inside the pocket of his coat. Steve watched him for a while before they were all invited inside the assembly hall.

He found an empty seat in the second row, next to a girl that seemed to be a bit younger than him. She gave him a quick smile before turning to the guy that was sitting next to her. They started talking intensely. The guy had bleached blonde hair and he looked very similar to the girl. Steve figured that they must be siblings.

A young woman gave the microphone a quick tap before starting to speak. She was young, probably only a few years older than them. Steve would have guessed that she was still a student. “Welcome to the New York City College of Applied Sciences, everybody!”

The crowd clapped. Everyone seemed excited to be here.

The assembly took about an hour. They were introduced to their professors and the campus rules. On the tour they visited the library and the studios as well as the lounge areas. Steve followed the crowd with a smile on his face.

After all that stuff was done the older students took over. They separated them into smaller groups.  
Steve looked at the piece of paper he had been handed: Group 17.  
A bunch of students from higher semesters had lined up at the front of the room. Each of them had signs hanging around their necks like you’d see it on airports. Instead of names however they had the group numbers printed on them.

Steve grabbed his bag and made his way over to the girl with the number 17. She was dressed very neatly: She had buttoned up her jacket, only leaving the top button to reveal the slightest bit of skin. The skirt was ironed carefully. Steve could not make out a single wrinkle. Her hair was curled perfectly, gracefully falling onto her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

“Name?” she asked roughly as she saw him coming up to him.

“Steve,” he answered, a bit surprised by her tone. “Uh, Rogers. Illustration.”

She nodded and glanced down onto the clipboard she was holding. “Rogers.” She made a cross next to his name and gave him the slightest smile. “Good to have you.”

Steve felt like he was being welcomed into the military.

“I’m Peggy Carter. Double-major Criminology and Military Science. Third semester.” She reached out her hand.

Steve took it and returned her smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He wanted to ask her about her unusual choice of majors, but she was clearly done talking to him. Her eyes were already fixed on the person behind him. “You are?”

“Barnes.”

Steve turned around curiously. He recognized the guy from before. He still looked insecure and now that Steve could see him up close - tired. His eyes were sunken and red, his skin pale and in contrast to everyone else he didn’t seem to have spent a lot of time this morning on deciding what to wear. Steve could make out a simple tee and sweatpants under the large coat. But although the guy looked like he hadn’t slept for days, Steve couldn’t help but think that he was incredibly attractive. A strand of long, brown hair had fallen into his face and Steve had to contain himself from reaching out and pushing it away.

Peggy made another cross on her clipboard. “Right, James. Literature and Society.”

“Bucky,” he corrected her. Then he looked at Steve. “Uh. Hi.”

Had he been staring? He didn’t know for certain but he sure as hell was standing in the way. “Hi! Sorry.”

Bucky grinned as he passed but he didn’t look at Steve, rather keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

Group 17 contained of eight people. He recognized the guy he had awkwardly made eye contact with earlier. His name was Tony Stark and he was an IT major. Steve didn’t really know what to think of him. It was obvious the guy enjoyed attention and making jokes. Other than that, he seemed to be pretty cool.

Tony was talking someone called Stephen Strange. Stephen had been quietly looking around their group for a while earlier and Steve has had the uncomfortable feeling of being judged by the stranger. Stephen and Tony seemed to be getting along pretty well. They were discussing something Steve didn’t understand. He had never been too interested in technology or medicine or whatever it was they were talking about now. His passion had always been art. The fact that he was actually here now, practicing it felt unreal.

The pair from earlier was in their group too. Their names were Pietro and Wanda Maximoff and they weren’t just siblings - they were twins. Steve couldn’t get a proper first impression yet because they were isolating themselves a bit, rather talking to each other than to the rest of the group.

And then there was Bucky of course. He was talking to a guy that seemed a few years older than them. His name was Clint. Steve learned that he had been working as a mechanic in his father’s small business before deciding that he wanted to do something else with his life. He wanted to become a reporter.

Steve was standing next to Peggy, waiting for her to finish her preparations while watching Bucky and Clint. They had the same majors, so it wasn’t a surprise they instantly got along. Steve thought about joining them and trying to get into the conversation but he didn’t want to bother them.

Peggy motioned them to follow her and together they walked outside through the big glass doors. Steve was taking in everything. The sun was already beginning to set, tinting the cloudy sky pink. They walked over a path of gravel that led them away from the main building. A few other students were lying on patches of neatly cut grass. Steve had the overall feeling that this place was taken extremely well care of.

He was surprised to see dozens of tables lined up against a wall. Peggy disappeared for a second before returning with red plastic cups and a box of beer.

“Beer-pong!” Pietro exclaimed excitedly.

His sister laughed.

“I’ll divide you into two teams. I’m guessing you all know the rules?”

They nodded.

The last time Steve had been on a party with beer-pong must’ve been back in high school, and that was a few years ago, but he could still remember the rules. And if he remembered correctly he had always been pretty good at it too.

“Maximoffs, Stark and Strange! You’ll be playing against Rogers, Barton, Barnes and me.” She fished a ping-pong ball out of her jacket and threw it to Wanda.

Her brother patted her shoulder encouragingly.

Beer-pong turned out to be the perfect idea. Once everyone had a few cups to drink they all lightened up a lot. Steve’s team was winning by far because they were clearly far more competitive. Wanda had never played the game herself, Stephen wasn’t really getting the point of it and Tony seemed to be a bit distracted by one of his team members. He kept playfully shoving Stephen and laughing at everything he said. It was obvious that out of everyone he had been drinking the most. Only Pietro was disappointed by his teams collective effort. He kept shouting at his team members to “get it together and play like adults” before eventually taking over completely.

But it wasn’t just due to the alcohol and his team winning that Steve’s mood lit up. He and Bucky had spent most of the evening talking, finding more and more similarities and things to talk about. At one point they were both laughing so hard that Clint had to take over and finish the game for them.

It was almost midnight when Steve felt like it was time to go. Time had passed so quickly with his new friend by his side, he hadn’t even noticed everyone slowly leaving. They had been sitting on a bench in the dark, doing nothing but talk.

Bucky insisted on taking a longer way home so he could accompany Steve. “Wouldn’t want you walking around all alone at night.”

“Why, how honorable of you,” Steve joked but he was more than happy about his friend’s company.

They walked together for a while, passing closed shops and empty parks, before coming to a halt under a streetlight.

“My apartment is right over there,” Steve said, motioning in the general direction of the house.

“See you Monday?” Bucky asked. His voice was quiet. It was clear the night was coming to an end. His skin was shining in the night light and Steve was thinking that he didn’t look tired at all anymore.

“Of course,” Steve promised. “See you Monday.”

Neither of them would’ve guessed that somehow they wouldn’t talk to each other again for a long time.

Steve turned to leave, giving Bucky one last genuine smile.


	2. Chapter 2

They were sitting in one of the booths inside the café. Sam was reading a somewhat interesting looking book. Steve and Natasha were going through the new menu. It was the quietest time of the day, most students were either at school or they were sleeping in. The air was still chilly, and the clouds were tinted pink.

Steve loved coming into work this early. Back at home he would always wake up before everyone else and go for a run in the empty neighborhood. It cleared his head and gave him some time to think before each long and stressful day.

He loved being around people, but it could often just get a little too much. When he had first moved in with Sam he had been worried that it would be hard for him. But after the first month he was almost embarrassed to ever have thought that. Sam gets people. They had been friends since high school and it hadn't even taken Sam a whole week to realize that Steve often needed some time to himself. He enjoyed the few hours of work with Natasha by his side, and he liked to chat with customers. Some would even flirt and some days he’d flirt back. But he kept mostly quiet during lectures, only really talking with Wanda about stuff that was on their minds. And it was nice having some time to breathe at work.

“Hey!” Natasha nudged him with her elbow. “Customer.”

He looked up. Standing in the doorframe stood the guy Steve had secretly hoped would show up today. Ever since Bucky had come by a few weeks ago he had made it a habit to get his morning coffee at _The Cold Brew_ at least once a week.

He stood there now, a bit awkwardly, a small notebook in his hand, slowly making his way into the café.

“You guys open?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yeah. Come in!” Steve gave him a smile. He watched the man as he approached. He looked a bit sick, face even paler that usually. “You’re awfully early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Hence-”

“The face?”

Steve flinched but the other man just chuckled.

“Yeah. That bad, huh?”

“No! Uh, you look good! Really… good and healthy. Like the epitome of health to be precise.”

Bucky laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear which made Steve’s heart skip a beat. “Right.”

“The usual?”

“Make it as dark as possible.”

“I got you,” Steve said and filled the cup all the way to the top.

“I owe you my life.”

Steve finished up the order and Bucky put his change into the tip jar on the counter.

“Might I suggest some sleep next time?”

“What an interesting thought. I have, in fact, not considered that yet.”

“I’m smart like that.”

Bucky looked at him for a while with a soft smile on his lips before he went to leave. “See you, Steve.”

The mention of his name left a tingly feeling in Steve’s stomach. “See you.” He stood there for a while, watching Bucky as he left. He sighed.

“I see. Very cute.” Natasha was making her way over from their booth.

“Huh?”

“I mean you. You’re very cute right now. You gonna ask him for his number next time or what?”

“What.”

“Geez, Steve. You’re really planning on staying single forever, huh?” Nat leaned against the counter and faced him.

“Look, I don’t know what you want from me. You know damn well I’m not good at this kind of stuff.” He crossed his arms. “Besides, I’m at work. I got priorities.”

“Right.” Natasha looked around the empty café. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to leave all of our customers waiting either.”

“Alright, guys,” Sam approached them, pulling his sweater over his head. “I’m gonna head off to work.”

“Want me to make you a latte to go?” Steve asked.

Sam nodded while stuffing a few leftover cookies from the day before into his pockets.

Steve grabbed a cup but as he went to pour the coffee he noticed something lying on the counter. It was a book. He looked at Natasha. “This yours?”

His friend shook her head.

Steve took the book from the counter and looked at it. It was a small leather notebook with a string tying it shut. Something had been written onto the cover with pen. Maybe lyrics, maybe a poem. Steve couldn’t tell. “Must be Bucky’s.”

“Who’s Bucky?” Sam asked.

“That beefy, long haired guy that just came in and made Steve’s pants tighter.”

“Nat, I swear to god.”

“Oh, him?”

Steve raised his eyebrow at his friend’s surprised face. “You know him?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Sam had worked in the club ever since his parents had kicked him out five years ago.  
It was an ugly building that was very well hidden in between the curious looking shops. Not many people knew about it. It had, however, become a go-to place for the students in the neighbourhood. It was close, it was cheap, and it was secluded. From time to time young hipsters would come to see bands play that weren’t mainstream enough for bigger venues. Sam was glad that these days were rare. He preferred the familiar faces inside of the _Neon Brother_. His co-workers liked him. Even more so the visitors. He would often find himself chatting away the night while preparing drinks, hanging up coats or whatever he was in charge of that day. It came easy for him.  
Steve admired Sam for it. He could never do it; he closed himself off way too much.

It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving when Sam recognized Bucky in the crowd for the first time. He was the only one standing at the side of the dance floor rather than jumping around with the others. He was the only one that didn’t seem the least bit drunk.  
Sam watched the stranger from the bar. He was observing the crowd with an expression that Sam couldn’t quite read.  
A group of girls approached the guy after a while and although he instantly put on a friendly smile it was obvious that he wasn’t interested. He kept pushing a strand of hair behind his ear and Sam saw him get more and more uncomfortable as time passed. After a couple of minutes the girls gave up and disappeared in the crowd on the dance floor.  
The stranger was looking around the room again - Sam figured that maybe he was looking for someone - until he saw Sam watching him. Sam quickly looked away and pretended to be busy cleaning dirty glasses. When he looked up again he saw he was making his way over.

“Hi,” the guy said with a voice that was huskier than Sam would’ve guessed.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

“Just water is fine.”

“Sure thing!” Sam said and after a while he added, “Not having a good night?”

The guy laughed flatly. “Could be better. ’Been stood up.”

“Ah shit. Sorry, man. Want me to add some vodka to your water? It’s on the house.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m ’bout to head out.”

Sam leaned back, watching the guy closely as he downed his water. He was rather nicely dressed for the occasion with a jean jacket over a slim white shirt and hair tied back into a bun. Sam couldn’t help but think that he was definitely Steve’s type. He considered quickly taking a picture and sending it to his friend, asking him if he should get his number, but he didn’t want his boss to see him use his phone during his shift for the fourth time this week.  
The guy left after finishing his drink.

Sam saw him again a couple times after that night. He was always in the company of a guy that looked a few years older. They sometimes danced but they were mostly standing at the side, barely talking. They spent the nights watching the crowd as if they were strangers. Sam sometimes thought that they only came so they had somewhere to go on Friday nights. They always left way before everyone else, as if they were only staying as long as necessary before heading out again to go their separate ways. Sam found them very odd. He couldn’t figure them out.

Steve was tempted to visit Sam at work this Friday, so he could keep an eye open for Bucky, but he didn’t want to feel like he was stalking him. Besides, parties weren’t exactly his thing and he would probably see him again later this week.  
However, he found himself hanging out more on campus after classes. He would usually head straight back to the apartment, but he was hoping to bump into Bucky and maybe get to talk to him outside of work. He did see him one time when he was walking with Clint, but they seemed pretty engaged in their conversation and Steve didn’t want to interrupt.

He was sitting on a bench with Wanda one day as she noticed him getting distracted and looking around, as if he was looking for somebody.

“Steve?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

He looked at her. He instantly felt bad. He couldn’t even remember what she had been telling him about. “God, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Looking for anyone in particular?”

“Oh, no,” he lied.

“Someone interesting?”

“Maybe.”

“A girl?”

“A guy.”

She looked surprised. Steve could tell she was faking it. “I didn’t know you were into guys!”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Yeah, I did.”

They looked at each other for a while. Wanda smiled. She didn’t need to say anything. Steve could see the acceptance in her eyes.

Natasha was waiting on him with take-out food when he came home that day. She was sitting at the kitchen island and reading a book which she put aside as she heard him enter.

“You’re late,” she said with a slightly annoyed expression.

“You could’ve eaten without me. It’s probably cold by now.”

“No.” She hopped down from the stool to get the bowls. “I was late too. Just came home a few minutes ago.”

“But you couldn’t resist making me feel bad, huh?” Steve asked while pouring the soup into their bowls.

They both grabbed a beer from the fridge and made themselves comfortable on the couch.  
Nat put on some music and they sat there for a while, simply eating and enjoying the moment. Steve loved Nat a lot. He loved having her around at work and even more when they were home. Nat was the kind of friend you could have around and not even talk to for days. They would sometimes spend Sundays lying around on the couch together while watching a movie or just lying there, neither of them saying a single word. Sam found it weird sometimes, mostly feeling like he had to break the silence. But he had gotten used to it and even seemed to welcome it some days.

“He asked about you today,” Natasha said after a while. “Bucky, I mean.”

Steve looked up. He tried not to look too interested. “Oh?”

“He thought you were working today. He looked pretty disappointed when he found out you weren’t. I told him: ’No. Steve doesn’t work on Tuesdays.’”

Steve sat up and placed his empty bowl onto the coffee-table. “And what did he say?”

“He said ’Not Tuesdays.’” She grinned. When he didn’t say anything she added, “Have you not noticed that he only comes by when you’re working?”

“How would I notice that? I’m not there when I’m not working.” He scratched his chin casually, but his heart was beating faster now.

“Well, but I have noticed.” His friend looked at him for a while. “You do with that information what you want.”

“You can’t know for sure. It’s probably just a coincidence.” Steve didn’t want to believe that, but he had to be realistic about this. However, he still made a mental note to stick to his schedule and not ask his co-workers to cover for him this week when he feels too exhausted to work.

“Right. But you know what I think.”

“Any plans for tonight?” he asked after a moment, desperate to change the subject.

“Sam’s taking me with him. I feel like booze and adrenaline tonight.”

“Sounds good.”

“You comin’ with?”

“No. I’m more feeling booze and quiet today. Guess I’ll finally start that watercolour painting that I’ve been planning for weeks.”

“Get some sleep, though,” his friend said with a concerned expression.

“I’ll try. Promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

As Steve got all set up on the floor in front of the big window in his room, his mind kept wandering off to the notebook which he had put away on his nightstand until he would see Bucky again.  
He opened up his watercolors and took out some of his favorite brushes. But he was lacking motivation all of a sudden. He didn’t know how to start.  
He sighed and sat down on his bed, reaching for the notebook. It was heavy in his hand. He hadn‘t looked inside although he really wanted to. Steve had enough self control not to dig through someones personal thoughts. Especially not if he liked said person. And Steve liked Bucky. A lot. He figured that it was about time he returned it.

He took out his phone to opened up Instagram. He typed “Bucky Barnes“ into the search bar and tried not think too much about the fact that he remembered Bucky’s last name after only having heard it once three years ago.  
He scrolled through the results until he found an account called “jbbarnes“. The user was on private mode but the brunette in the profile picture who was wearing a big hoodie and sticking out his tongue was undoubtedly Bucky. 

Steve looked at the profile picture for a bit. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that he couldn’t scroll through his feed until the other man had accepted his follow request. His heart started beating faster as he pressed “follow“ and opened up the Direct Message window. He just stared at his keys for a minute, unsure what to say to him. 

In the end he decided on a simple message.

stevefrombrooklyn: Hey, it‘s Steve. I think you left your notebook at the coffeeshop the other day. I have it if you want to pick it up. Just come by whenever you can!

He immediately locked his phone and threw it onto his bed after hitting “send“. He sighed. That had probably been a stupid thing to say. But why exactly was he overthinking this again? He always did this. He kinda wished he could just chill for once in his life.

He sat down on the floor again and dipped a brush into the paint, trying desperately to get his mind off of Bucky and the stupid book.

He painted for a while before checking the time and realizing it was somehow already 3 in the morning. He had promised Nat that he would get some sleep so he figured it‘d be best if he wrapped it up and went to bed. He was tired but that was never reason enough to actually have a decent sleep schedule. Most nights he was pushing himself to work on a project or finish that essay that was due or simply get some much needed practice. People always told him his art was great and didn’t really need improvement but they didn’t see what he saw. He guessed he‘s always been too self critical. He‘d broke down crying one night and when Sam had checked on him, he‘d been surrounded by dozens of paintings but none of them had been good enough for him to hand in. Sleep has become a reward rather than a priority. He knew his lifestyle was unhealthy but he really didn’t see another way for him to get to the level he wanted to be at.

He brushed his teeth, got changed, laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was wide awake. Awesome. A couple minutes passed before the sound of an incoming message gave him a reason to get up again.

There were two messages waiting for him as he unlocked his phone.

Bucky (jbbarnes) accepted your follow request

jbbarnes: Hi, Steve! thanks so much! I thought I‘d never get that back. You‘re my savior!

Steve grinned and typed out a reply.

stevefrombrooklyn: I do what I can :)

stevefrombrooklyn: I‘ll be working tmrw from 4-8pm. You wanna pick it up then?

jbbarnes: Sure thing! 

jbbarnes: I‘m really glad you found it! I don‘t know what I’d do without it.

stevefrombrooklyn: May I ask what it’s for exactly?

jbbarnes: You haven‘t looked inside?

stevefrombrooklyn: Can’t say it wasn’t tempting but no.

jbbarnes: Such a gentleman.

jbbarnes: btw why exactly are you still up? I wasn‘t expecting a response so quickly. Don‘t you have classes tomorrow?

stevefrombrooklyn: I could ask you the same thing.

stevefrombrooklyn: But idk I‘m just not tired.

jbbarnes: Yeah same. And I had a shitty day so I gotta make up for wasted time.

stevefrombrooklyn: You‘re making up for wasted time by talking to me?

jbbarnes: I like talking to you.

Steve could feel himself blush as he read Bucky’s reply. He was kind of glad they weren’t talking in person.  
They texted for way too long before Bucky realized they‘d have to pull an all-nighter if they wouldn’t go to sleep any time soon. 

stevefrombrooklyn: Things I didn’t think I’d see today:  
\- Number one: Sunrise

jbbarnes: Oh shit haha. Guess we should really go to sleep then. 

stevefrombrooklyn: Yeah, I guess you’re right.

He was a little disappointed. He‘d be more than fine with staying home and pretending to be sick if that would mean he could text Bucky some more. Maybe he‘d even want to come over some day. They‘d decided on meeting tomorrow evening during Steve‘s shift so Bucky could pick up the notebook. That was definitely something Steve was looking forward to.

 

There was a man eating breakfast on the couch when he came out of his room just a couple hours later. He was facing away from Steve, talking to Natasha who was making coffee in the kitchen.

“Morning, sunshine!” She grinned as she saw him standing in the doorway. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The man turned towards him. It was Clint.

“Oh, ” Steve said surprised.

“Hey.” Clint grinned.

“I though I told you to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I did actually. Some.” He paused for a minute to make some sense of the situation. “Uh, can we talk about this for a second?” he asked, staring at the two of them.

“Well,” Natasha started as she sat down next to Clint on the couch, handing him a cup of coffee. “We met yesterday at the Neon Brother. Got along pretty well. We danced, had a couple drinks. You can guess what happened.”

 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to picture the two of them together. “Right, okay. Yeah.”

Natasha laughed at him.

“Yeah, I was there with Bucky and Brock actually but they bailed on me. They left after an hour or something?” Clint explained. “Can’t have been much longer than that.”

“Brock?”

“Friend of his.”

“They were arguing pretty bad. Do you know what it was about?” Natasha asked. She sounded concerned.

“No idea,” Clint said and sipped on his coffee. “Bucky doesn’t really talk about personal stuff all that much.”

—

Steve’s day pretty much sucked. He wasn‘t happy about the work he‘d gotten done during class which meant he‘d probably have to do it over again that night. If hat wasn’t enough, he was absolutely exhausted as well. He almost fell asleep during his break at work. He had his fifth cup of coffee that day at around 7pm. Bucky still hadn‘t shown up. 

“Can you lock up later?“ Natasha asked as she closed the coffee shop an hour later. “I can‘t stay much longer. I have a date.” 

She grinned as Steve raised an eyebrow. “Clint?”

“I like him.”

“That’s cool, Nat. I‘m happy for you.” He really was. Steve gave her a warm smile. She didn’t have the best of luck with relationships ever since things ended with Bruce. But Steve had a good feeling about Clint. He was a good guy.

She smiled back at him.

It’d had been over twenty minutes after she’d left when the door finally opened again. Steve looked up as Bucky entered. 

“Sorry I‘m so late!” He looked even more exhausted than Steve. Not just physically but mentally too. 

“That’s no problem. I got nowhere else to be.” He smiled and motioned towards the coffee machine. Bucky nodded thankfully. “Rough day again?”

“You could say that.” He sat down at a table and rested his head in his hands.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, it‘s fine. I was dealing with some stuff but that‘s over now.” He sighed. “Thank god.”

Steve handed him the biggest cup they had. Bucky almost downed all of it in one go.

Steve prepared a plate of leftovers in the hopes that Bucky would want to hang out with him for a while. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Bucky sighed and looked up to Steve with a tired but warm smile. “Thank you.”

Steve sat down next to him and handed over the notebook. He looked up at Bucky’s delighted face. He was looking longer than he probably should’ve. “Will you read me something?”

Bucky thought for a second. The he looked back at Steve. “Okay.” He opened the book in front of him, shifting in his chair. Steve could tell that this was not something Bucky did a lot. 

“I have some of my own poetry in here but that’s super embarrassing, you wouldn’t actually want to hear that.” Steve definitely did but he didn’t say anything. Something told him that he’d love Bucky’s poems. “Mostly I just write down stuff I read somewhere. Stuff that inspires me or whatever. So this one, it’s by Kate Hall and it’s just like she took my feelings and thoughts and slammed them onto the page. I wish I could express myself as well as she can.”

He shifted around in his chair a bit more before he started reading.

"If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed,  
bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete room  
with twelve locks on the door.  
I wouldn’t ask for a mattress  
or decorate. I wouldn’t ask for beautiful.  
I’d let the philosophers in,  
but not into my bed.  
They’d arrive cradling their brass instruments.  
I might let them play  
but only very softly and only if  
they didn’t fight or sing.

If I were to sleep, there wouldn’t be any windows.  
There would be a skylight,  
but in the middle of the floor.  
I’d press my face against the glass  
and stare down at other floors upon floors upon floors…  
I’d do a sleep dance right on top of the skylight.  
It would be a new game.  
It would involve amazing feats of sleep contortion.  
It would involve letters.

If I were to sleep, I would be spread-eagled across the bed,  
and even with the iron struts and screws cutting into my back,  
I would protect the metal frame.  
I would protect the springs."

He stopped reading but kept his eyes on the page. 

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” Steve asked after a while.

“Why do you ask?” Bucky chuckled. “Uh, yeah.”

Steve nodded. “Me too. Have been for a couple years now.”

Bucky looked at him with big eyes. “Really?”

“Why do you think I work at a coffee shop?” He laughed. “It wasn‘t always this bad but college, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky smiled weakly and Steve got the feeling that he really did know. He probably knew better that anyone else in his life. Sure, Sam and Nat were always there for him and he was so incredibly grateful for that but he’s never really talked with anyone who was going through the same thing. “I was pretty much okay before I came here. I’ve had this for such a long time and a couple of months before I moved out I finally felt like I was actually getting better. But now that I’m here, it’s just like seven years ago.“

“What happened seven years ago?” Steve asked but he regretted it the second the words left his mouth.

“Uhm, it was - I had an accident.” He started fidgeting with the string of his hoodie. “I was 14 and one of my friends just got his license. He was old enough to drive without a parent or a supervisor. It was really exciting. He’d had it for two days and we wanted to go and see a movie. My little sister, Becca, she wanted to come with, so we took her. We thought we were so cool and we wanted everyone to see. We’d rolled down the windows of his Ford Fiesta and wanted to put on some loud music. He wanted to listen to Eminem but I wanted Led Zeppelin. We were fighting over the radio and Becca was complaining in the back. It was all over in a couple of seconds. I was the only one hurt, thankfully.” He pulled up his left sleeve, revealing big scars that were reaching from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. “I couldn’t live with myself if Becca had gotten hurt. It’s been hard enough, knowing she could’ve died that day.”

Steve had held his breath, listening to Bucky’s story. The mental image of that accident horrified him. He couldn’t imagine what Bucky must’ve gone through.

“Anyway, I’ve had nightmares ever since. I’ll close my eyes and I’m back in that fucking Ford Fiesta with Brock and my sister. I would refuse to fall asleep for a couple days straight. My doctor made me go to therapy and at first I hated it, she made me talk about that day all the time but in the end I was able to move on. She prescribed me pills and they’ve helped a lot. They don’t anymore. It kinda sucks.” He shrugged. Steve put a hand on his leg and gave him a sympathetic look. Bucky gave him a weak smile. “Are you going to show me your sketchbook now or what?” He asked after awhile and bumped his shoulder against Steve’s to lighten the mood.

“I guess that’s only fair,” Steve admitted and went back behind the counter to take it out of his bag. “How do you know I carry a sketchbook with me?” 

He looked up in time to catch Bucky blushing. “Well, I mean you - you’re an art student and… you have it with you all the time, on campus,” he stuttered.

Steve lowered his head so the other man couldn’t see him grinning. He had seen Bucky around all the time ever since the first day of college but he never thought he’d ever noticed him too. 

He opened his sketchbook near the middle, hoping he wouldn’t have to show him his older artworks. He’d been making a lot of progress recently so he wasn’t too keen on having Bucky look at the stuff Steve considered to be pretty bad. But Bucky closed the book again, putting his hands on the cover to open it at the first page. He raised his eyebrows as if asking “Can I?“. Steve just nodded. His heart was beating faster. His art was something really personal, something intimate. He’d never shared it with anyone besides Sam and Natasha. And even they haven’t seen all of the charcoal drawings Steve was doing when he was sitting in the dark of his room in the middle of the night when he just wasn’t able to fall asleep. They haven’t seen the pages he’s covered entirely with black paint and he’s never shown them the art he’d once ripped ripped out of his sketchbook, not wanting anyone to see what really went through his head sometimes, and since kept in a box under his bed.  
Steve wanted to share all of that with Bucky. It was stupid, really. They didn't even know each other.

“Steve, this is - this is beautiful,” Bucky gasped as he softly put his index finger on one of Steve’s favorite sketches. It was a drawing he’d done of Sam and Natasha one warm September evening as the three of them had relaxed on the balcony of their apartment with a bottle of wine. Nothing monumental had happened that day but it was one of Steve’s fondest memories. In the drawing, Natasha had her head rested in her hand, laughing as she listened to one of Sam’s stories.

Bucky took his time as he went through the sketchbook, letting each drawing resonate in him for a while before moving on to the next one. 

“Tell me about this one,“ he whispered after a while. His hand hovered over one of Steve’s favorite paintings, careful not to touch it. 

“It’s a dream I have sometimes. I don’t dream a lot but when I do it always feels so real. This one in particular. It’s the same thing every time. I’m standing in the middle of a corn field on a stormy night. There are only stars, no moon. I can’t see anything, only a figure that’s standing next to me. I think it’s a person but it doesn’t have a face. It follows me. As I am running around in the dark it keeps getting lighter and lighter until I see this boy. It’s me. It’s me back when I was this skinny little boy who everyone thought would just drop dead one day. That’s how sick he looks. He is looking up at the sky and his baggy clothes are flapping in the wind. He’s standing in a ray of light. I look at him for a while and then he turns to me. We stare at each other and then, all of a sudden, there are crows rising out of the field. Hundreds at once. And they’re screaming. It’s so loud. And then I wake up. That’s how it always is.“ Steve kept his eyes on the ground for a minute. When he looked up again, Bucky’s eyes were fixed on him. They looked at each other for a while and Steve thought that maybe Bucky would kiss him now. But he didn’t. Instead he whispered, “Can you show me more?“. He sounded so innocent and he looked small in the soft moonlight that was breaking through the big windows of the coffee shop. 

Steve just nodded and somehow got himself to look away. He went over every single artwork, telling Bucky about everything that had been going through his head when he’d been drawing. Even from the corner of his eyes he could see that Bucky wasn’t looking at the pages though. If it were anyone else, Steve would’ve been offended. But it was Bucky. And Bucky wasn’t looking at the page because he was looking at Steve. After a while, he rested his head on his shoulder. Steve prayed that he couldn’t hear the beat of his heart. 

Steve kept talking even when he knew Bucky had fallen asleep. He hoped that the sound of his voice was comforting. When he reached the end, he closed the book and carefully leaned back to rest his head on top of Bucky’s and closed his eyes. He listened to the sound of his breathing until his eyelids got too heavy and he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem: “Insomnia” by Kate Hall from The Certainty Dream, 2009 (source: https://www.poetryinvoice.com/poems/insomnia-0)


End file.
